


A Bit of a Predicament

by zerodaryls



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale's the victim but there's no real perpetrator, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Come Eating, Coming Untouched, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley blames himself, Dom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Dubious Consent, Forced edging, M/M, Marathon Sex, Multiple Orgasms, No Refractory Period, Orgasm Denial, Post-Episode: Good Omens: Lockdown, Rimming, Rope Bondage, Service Top Crowley (Good Omens), Spanking, Sub Crowley (Good Omens), but please do mind the tags, i'm not marking this as noncon because i don't think it's THAT extreme, or at least a miraculously short refractory period, second chapter fixes things (and then some), the first chapter contains rather extremely dubious consent, they could do this all day if they wanted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:28:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24906085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zerodaryls/pseuds/zerodaryls
Summary: "Now, there were quite a few things Aziraphale had expected upon his arrival outside of Crowley’s flat. He’d expected to be able to miracle his way past the locked door (he did). He’d expected Crowley to be asleep in his bedroom (he was). He’d expected to have his breath taken away at the sight of the demon asleep (it was,oh, it was).What he hadnotexpected, nor could have predicted the humiliating extent of, was that Crowley had set up a very creative, verysinfultrap for intruders.Such was the predicament that Aziraphale found himself in."Aziraphale decides to let himself into Crowley’s flat in order to wake him from his lockdown nap. Things don’t go at all as expected.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 209
Collections: AwakeTheSnake





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the most dubcon-y thing I've ever written.  
> I went ahead and put specific, spoiler-y warnings at the bottom notes in case anyone wants to know exactly what they're getting into (or what's getting into Aziraphale. Ha! ....I'll see myself out.)

Aziraphale had grown quite sick of cake. Baking it, eating it, giving it to ill-intending strangers… He was quite _through_ with it all, to be perfectly frank. Wine, cocoa, tea–it’d all become so… mundane. No book he picked up could hold his interest. He was beginning to understand Crowley’s use of the phrase “transcendentally bored”.

Oh, he’d done quite well with his own company for the first month or so of lockdown, but a few weeks after that short phone call Aziraphale was entirely ready for it to be over. He’d gone _far_ too long without Crowley’s presence, he decided one afternoon as he lounged in the back of his shop. He scoffed at himself immediately after thinking such a thing. Crowley was due to wake in hardly a fortnight! _Surely_ he could wait a mere two more weeks to see him again. Why, they used to go _decades_ without seeing each other! _Centuries_ , even, in a few (unbearable) cases.

Only, that was _before_ , wasn’t it? In the days since the averted apocalypse, Aziraphale had gotten quite pleasantly used to spending much more time with Crowley–they once went 12 days in a row without missing each other’s company! They’d found themselves going out to lunch several times a week, reminiscing in the back of the bookshop, walking through St. James’s Park. Simply enjoying the fact that they could be together without having to look over their shoulders. It’d been _wonderful_ , and, well, he _missed_ it!

That blasted lockdown had gone into effect when the two of them were apart, and the next thing Aziraphale knew, he’d gone two miserable months without seeing his demon. Er, _the_ demon.

Aziraphale sighed, leaning back in his favorite chair. He could… He could “pop” over to Crowley’s flat, wake him up, spend the rest of this awful pandemic with him… Couldn’t he? 

After all, he was an angel! Certainly he could get through London without being seen. And if he wasn’t _seen_ , well, then, it wasn’t _really_ going to do any harm, was it? It wasn’t as though he would endanger any human’s health; he just needed to avoid setting a bad example.

Aziraphale licked his lips as he considered…

_Yes, that would be quite doable. A-and he’d really be rather unlikely to turn me away, seeing as how he practically invited himself over earlier! He’d be_ thrilled _if I were to… to flit over and wake him. Yes. Yes, I think I shall._

Aziraphale gave a firm nod and stood, adjusting his waistcoat before making his way out of the shop, careful not to be detected by anyone. He smiled to himself at how familiar the feeling was–sneaking around to meet up with Crowley. Only, this time, it wasn’t nearly as dangerous. Lockdown aside, they were free. He was _free!_ There was almost a skip in his step as he made his way to Crowley’s little corner of the city.

Now, there were quite a few things Aziraphale had expected upon his arrival outside of Crowley’s flat. He’d expected to be able to miracle his way past the locked door (he did). He’d expected Crowley to be asleep in his bedroom (he was). He’d expected to have his breath taken away at the sight of the demon asleep (it was, _oh_ , it was).

What he had _not_ expected, nor could have predicted the humiliating extent of, was that Crowley had set up a very creative, very _sinful_ trap for intruders.

Such was the predicament that Aziraphale found himself in.

With his arms, legs, and middle bound by rope that had suddenly descended from the ceiling, the angel was dangling horizontally at what would have been chest-level if he were on his feet and not, in fact, suspended mid-air by miraculously strong binds.

It’d all happened so fast, he was still catching up to the situation as it worsened. _What the_ Devil _is going on?! I only just… What happened? L-let’s see, I, I, I miracled myself into the flat,_ he recounted mentally as the scene continued to develop. _A-and I was standing just outside his bedroom– Oh! I’m– Oh! I– My… My clothes are gone?! Why am I floating? O-or am I flying? Wait, WHY ARE MY CLOTHES GONE?!_

He’d only just come to terms with his sudden nudity when he felt something, or, rather, _nothing_ , spread his arse cheeks. He let out a startled shriek when a cool, gel-like substance spread itself over his hole. “Aah! _Crowley!_ ” Aziraphale shouted, hoping the demon would come to his rescue despite how utterly _humiliating_ it would be to be discovered in such a state. It felt as though invisible fingers were pressing the lubricant inside of him, working him open for what Aziraphale couldn’t bear to think might replace them. “Crowley!”

Nothing.

He knew Crowley to be a deep sleeper; he’d have to shake him quite violently to rouse him. Only, there was absolutely _no_ getting out of those ropes! They seemed to be specially made to weaken any supernatural forces–occult _or_ ethereal. Aziraphale struggled against the rough, knotted fabric, having given up on attempting to miracle himself out of the predicament. He’d have to try to get down the human way.

He twisted and turned, grunting as he tried with all his might to get away from those phantom fingers and… Well, what _was_ his plan, exactly? Break the rope? If Crowley had cursed them to be unaffected by miracles, what made him think any _human_ ability would suffice?

Aziraphale whimpered in response to two separate happenings: the realization that there’d be no freeing himself from whatever came next, and the sudden prodding of something thick and blunt at his recently lubed hole.

“Crowley…,” he said, his voice wary and tentative and desperate all at once. “Crowley,” he said, a bit louder than before, as the object continued to press against him. He craned his neck to try to get a glimpse of what exactly was happening between his legs. _Oh_. There, prodding at his arse, was a long, thick, silicon sex toy. It was rather realistic in shape, he thought, but its color scheme was distinctly… Well, _Crowley,_ in that it was black, with monstrous red veins crawling up the length of it.

“Crowley!” Whatever hazy apprehension he’d been experiencing a moment ago all at once exploded into pure, classic panic. “Crowley! Crowley, wake up! Wake up, _please_ ,” he begged, even as the autonomous cock suddenly breached him. “Agh! I-I’m, I– _Fuck!_ ”

As soon as the cock had entered him, a phantom mouth began to kiss and lick at Aziraphale’s own quickly-hardening length. There was nothing there, but it _felt_ as though a devilishly talented tongue was lapping up and down his shaft, coating it in saliva that had no real source.

“Oh, oh fuck! _Fuck!_ Crowley! Help!”

Crowley remained exactly as he had been just moments ago, when Aziraphale had miracled himself into his flat. The angel could see through the glass walls of his bedroom that the demon was still sleeping peacefully, blissfully unaware of the assault that was happening in his hallway.

“Crowley, _please_ ,” Aziraphale shouted, to no avail. “You _must_ hear me! Wake up! Wake u– _Ohhhhfuck_.”

Aziraphale was going to come. He was sure of it. He was going to come with an impossible sex toy in his arse and an invisible mouth on his cock. He watched as precome leaked from the tip, and closed his eyes in anticipation of release.

Nothing.

The mouth left him, the dildo stopped pounding him for a moment, and Aziraphale whimpered. It wasn’t that he’d really _wanted_ to come, of course; he was rather more preoccupied with getting _out_ of this predicament! It was humiliating! But to be so close and then… nothing?

Only, the nothingness didn’t last for long. As soon as Aziraphale had lost that impending orgasm, something warm and wet enveloped his cock again, and the toy resumed fucking him.

This happened three or four times (he wasn’t quite in the headspace to count) before Aziraphale broke into sobs. “Please,” he cried, “let me come!” He glared into the bedroom across from him. “Wake up and _do_ something! S-stop this, _please!_ ” 

Aziraphale squeezed his eyes shut and imagined Crowley leaping out of bed, snapping his fingers to let him down from the ropes that chafed his skin. He imagined Crowley with a grim expression, miracling the toy and mouth away and apologizing profusely as he let Aziraphale come, finally, _finally_. Or, or at least, he thought, Crowley could put and end to that _need_ , making his painfully hard cock go back to its usual unperturbed state.

Only… What if Crowley _didn’t_ stop it? Aziraphale shuddered as he began to entertain an altogether _different_ fantasy.

What if Crowley emerged from his bedroom only to watch as Aziraphale was fucked by his own demonic device? What if he… What if he _helped_? What if he did away with that phantom mouth and licked at Aziraphale’s cock with his own wicked tongue? Or… Or… What if he replaced that thick fake cock in his arse with his own? What if Crowley kissed and licked and sucked and _fucked_ him?

“Crowley,” moaned Aziraphale, only this time he wasn’t begging his friend to wake and rescue him. He opened his eyes to peer into the bedroom, just barely able to make out the smooth, unbothered lines of the demon’s sleeping face, his red hair adding color to a grey pillowcase. “Crowley.” Aziraphale sucked in a sharp breath. “Crowley, mmmm, _yes_. Mmmm, _oh_. Oh, oh, yes, _there_ , yes, _fuck_! Fuck me _harder_ , Crowley. Faster! Mmmmmmmmmm _yeeesss_.”

The toy began vibrating inside of him, which was an entirely new sensation. It made Aziraphale convulse against the ropes that held him, moaning Crowley’s name as he imagined it was the demon’s cock inside of him, giving him pleasure beyond anything he’d ever experienced. “F-fuck,” he whined, “fuck! Ohhhhhhhhhh, oh yes. Yes. _Yes_!”

How… How had he not orgasmed yet? He should have orgasmed several minutes ago! Or… Or had it been hours? How long had he been suspended in midair, fucked by a dildo with a mind of its own? And when had he stopped trying to get _out_ of this predicament? When on Earth had he decided he wanted _more_?!

_More. More. More._ It was all he could seem to think. _More. More. Not enough, need more. Need to come. Let me come. Why can’t I come?!_

If Aziraphale hadn’t been reduced to a babbling mess of desperate arousal, he might’ve put together that part of Crowley’s intruder trap meant he wasn’t going to be _permitted_ to come. He’d been edged for just over three hours (not that he had any sense of time in such a state), and he still held out hope that soon, _soon_ he’d find his release. _This time, certainly! This time, it’s going to happen_ , he’d tell himself every time he approached that sweet, sweet edge of bliss. But it never came. _He_ never came.

“MmmmmmmfuckfuckfUCK, fuck. P-please, let me, f-fuck, let me finish, please!” Aziraphale sobbed, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as an invisible mouth sucked his cock until he felt he was about to burst. “Please, please, please, pleeeease.” What he received in response was a harder pounding, a good, long suck of his cock… and the sudden loss of that edge yet again. “No,” he whimpered, “no, please. Please. I _need_ it. I _neeeed_ to come. _Please!_ ”

After the thirteenth time of _almost_ coming, Aziraphale really lost it. He shouted louder than ever before, repeating Crowley’s name. “Crowley, Crowley, CROWLEY! CROWLEY, WAKE UP AND MAKE ME COME YOU… YOU _BASTARD_!” He began sobbing again as he screamed, “WAKE _UP_! CROWLEY! CROWLEY!”

He did this for several minutes, closing his eyes and trying desperately to summon more volume to his voice as he cried for help.

“What the _fuck_?!”

Aziraphale could do very little to hold back the desperate moan that Crowley’s voice aroused in him. He opened his eyes to see the demon himself, standing in the entryway of his bedroom, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. He was dressed in black silk pajamas, his hair sticking every which way, and Aziraphale tried to shift in the ropes in a futile attempt to get closer to him. “C-Crowley! Let me come, please! _Please_ let me come. Please, please, please, please,” he babbled, “b-be good, I’ll be good, I’m so sorry, d-didn’t mean to set it off… m’bad’angel… I know, b’j-just, _please_ , f-fuck–” Aziraphale gathered the strength to growl out, “ _Fuck_ me, fuck me, FUCK ME, Crowley, _please!_ ”

* * *

Crowley blinked once, twice at the sight before him. He thought he was still dreaming for a moment. Had to be, right? _Because there is_ no _way…_

Aziraphale released a particularly obscene moan, and Crowley staggered back at the weight of it. “Shit.” _It’s real. This is real. This is happening. What the fuck?! What the FUCK?!_

“Pleeeeeease, please, please, I-I, I beg you, Crowley, _please_ , fuck me, fuuuck meee.” The angel was sobbing as the thick silicon dildo penetrated him brutally.“Need to come. Need… Need… _You!_ Need you! S’not’enough, not enough, never enough, can’t come. Not fair. Need you, need you, need you, please. Fuck me. Please. Please.”

Crowley thought he might pass out as he brought himself fully into the moment. Right, Aziraphale was still… naked. Being fucked by the magical cock he’d created for the theoretical intruder he _never thought he’d actually get_. He’d forgotten he’d even set the trap, to begin with! It had been hardly a month after the averted apocalypse. He’d been drinking one evening, trying to forget the terrors of that one wretched week. He’d remembered how upsetting it’d been for Hastur and Ligur to break in, how he’d narrowly survived the intrusion. And since he was out of holy water, he needed some other sort of assurance, he’d thought.

He had also been thinking about Aziraphale that night, and the many things he wanted to do with him now that they were free to live and love as they chose.

And so, with the combined efforts of both his big head and his (hard, leaking) _little_ head, he’d constructed a sexual torture device for any future intruders.

And forgotten about it by the next morning.

Aziraphale was still suffering the consequences.

Crowley cursed himself as he snapped his fingers, letting the ropes dematerialize. He then realized he’d just removed the angel’s supports and that his dearest friend, who was still moaning and babbling about needing to come, was about to hit the cold, hard ground. Well, he couldn’t have that, could he? After all that Crowley had accidentally put him through! So, without any time to consider simply miracling a soft landing for the angel, Crowley dove forward and caught Aziraphale in his arms. Aziraphale, his oldest, dearest, and indeed _only_ friend. Aziraphale, who was naked and drenched in sweat. Aziraphale, whose soft skin was chafed and even bleeding in some places as a result of struggling against that harsh rope (Crowley healed him with a thought). Aziraphale, who still had a fake cock magically pounding his arse. Aziraphale, whose own cock was leaking as he groaned and begged for release.

_Right_. He’d been edged for… Fuck, who even knows how long?! It could’ve been hours! _Days!_ Fuck, what if it’d been _days_?!

Crowley snapped his fingers and put the torture to an end. The supernatural force that’d kept the angel from coming was no longer in effect. The dildo disappeared, and Aziraphale whined at the sudden loss of it. Then, he looked up at Crowley, blinked, and came with a groan of the demon’s name.

Crowley’s pajamas caught the majority of the angel’s seed, right across his chest, but he was all too aware of the few drops that managed to reach his face. He darted his tongue out, reflexively, and then brought it back into his mouth along with the taste of Aziraphale’s… _Fuck. Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit! Why the fuck did I do that? Fuck! Shit!_

“Crrrowley?” Aziraphale slurred, coming back to himself. “W-what… What… Oh!” He sat up in the demon’s arms, then scrambled to his feet. He didn’t snap or wave his hand, yet he was dressed in his usual attire not a second later. “I– _Oh_ ,” he said mournfully. “Oh… Oh… Oh, _fuck!_ ” He started sobbing, then, and Crowley just sat there, blinking up at him.

_Do something, you fucking bastard_ , the demon chastised himself. _He’s crying. He’s crying because of_ you _, you piece of shit! You made this happen! Fucking worthless, idiotic demon! DO SOMETHING!_

“I…” Crowley swallowed around the lump in his throat, and thought he might choke on it. “I… Angel…”

“N-No,” said Aziraphale, shaking his head profusely. “No, no… You needn’t… No. I… I’ll leave. I-I’m… Oh, _fuck_.”

And with that, Aziraphale was gone. Crowley watched from the ground as the angel bolted down the hall and out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaand here's the content warning for folks who wanted some spoilers to determine whether or not to read this chapter: in summary, crowley had (drunkenly) set a trap for intruders at his flat and forgotten about it, and aziraphale unknowingly walks right into it. it involves a magical dildo and the sensation of being lubed and fingered and fucked with aforementioned dildo and getting his cock sucked and not being allowed to come through it all. he's pretty distressed at the beginning of it but eventually decides he wants more and he wants crowley and oh dear it just gets really awkward after that, poor babey. chapter two is much less troubling (and maybe stands on its own? they discuss the events of chapter one, though).


	2. Chapter 2

“You said his name,” Aziraphale wailed to himself, five glasses deep in his favorite wine. He was back at the bookshop, sprawled in his favorite chair, and had absolutely no idea how loud he was being (not that he cared). “ _Why_ would you say his _name_?!”

He kept replaying the scene in his mind, though it was a bit hazy through his drunkenness. Those hours. Those endless, _cursed_ hours, kept on edge, desperate for release… Desperate for _Crowley_ …

It wasn’t as though the longing was new to him. Aziraphale had been quietly desiring his dearest friend for centuries. That thoughts of Crowley making rough, passionate love to him had come to mind wasn’t really surprising. He just hadn’t gone quite so… _feral_ about it before. And _certainly_ not in the demon’s own presence! He… He’d begged him to, to _fuck_ him, hadn’t he? To make him come? Aziraphale whimpered and slumped in his chair, letting his head fall into his free hand. In his other hand, wine sloshed over the edge of the glass he held, leaving a stain on his coat. Aziraphale miracled the entire piece of apparel off of him with a thought, cleaned and tucked safely away in his flat upstairs. He sighed.

What was it about Crowley that was so… so _intoxicating_ , anyway? Why couldn’t Aziraphale just be content with what they had? They were finally free to be open about their friendship, and here Aziraphale was, wishing for more. Wishing for that long, talented tongue on him, licking all around his cock. Would he let it fork, like a serpent’s? Would he… Would he put it elsewhere? _Oh_ , would– Would he work him open with it, preparing him for Crowley’s cock?

Aziraphale groaned, then frowned down at the growing bulge in his trousers. “Why must you always do this?” he interrogated it. “Stop it! Go _away_!”

“I’m… sorry, I just…”

Aziraphale snapped his head up to be greeted with the worst possible sight given his current state of mind (and cock): Crowley.

“…I thought I should, you know…” Crowley was beet red, and looked about five seconds from bolting. His eyes, free of his usual sunglasses, were red and puffy, as though he’d done quite a bit of crying after Aziraphale’d left. He was still in his black silk pajamas, Aziraphale’s dried come splattered across his chest, and the angel imagined him driving around in the Bentley like that before realizing he’d probably just miracled himself over. The demon’s entire body was tense, his hands balled into fists at his sides. He swallowed thickly and continued, “Thought I should apologize. _Wanted_ to. _Wanted_ to apologize. Wanted to make things right, if I can.”

Aziraphale blinked dumbly at Crowley for a moment, then gave him a wide smile that clued the demon in as to just how drunk he was. _What a gentleman,_ he thought. _What a sweet, sweet de–_

“Can…” Crowley sucked in a breath, eyeing the angel warily. “Can you sober up for this?”

Aziraphale winced. _Oh, no_ , he thought, _I can’t do that. It’ll be awkward!_ He voiced his concerns.

Crowley gave him a tight-lipped frown. “Gonna be anyway. Just… Please?”

Aziraphale gave a deep sigh, but acquiesced. He grimaced as the alcohol left his system. _Oh, this is… This is much worse than I thought._ He briefly entertained the idea of summoning all that expelled wine right back into him.

“You good?”

Aziraphale couldn’t bring himself to meet the demon’s gaze, but he could at least nod.

The nod was a lie. He was most certainly _not_ good.

“Angel… I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t even _begin_ to cover it, but I am _sorry_. I… I never would’ve… I mean, I didn’t even _think_ – I, I, I’d forgotten about it– Was drunk out my mind when I made–”

“You needn’t apologize to me, Crowley. _I’m_ the one who trespassed.” Aziraphale heaved a resigned sigh and looked up at his friend. “I suppose I got what I deserved.”

Crowley looked at him as though the angel were a puppy he’d just struck with his car. “You didn’t deserve that, angel. No one deserves that. I should never have set it up in the first place, no matter how drunk I was. S’no excuse.”

Aziraphale fought the urge to nod. He really couldn’t argue with that, but he didn’t want to make Crowley feel any worse than he apparently did. “…Well,” he said after a moment, clearing his throat. “Anyway, I– I really ought to be apologizing to _you_.”

“What the fuck for?!” Now Crowley was looking at him as though _Aziraphale_ had struck a puppy with his car (and on purpose).

“I said your _name_ , Crowley,” Aziraphale wailed, guilty tears gathering in his eyes. “I… I… I was _looking_ at you, you know, half the time, watching you sleep as I imagined it was _you_ inside of me. Moaning your name, shouting for you to… to…” He shook his head, unable to finish his sentence. “A-and I… I… I _ejaculated_ on you! Aren’t you bothered at _all_?!”

Crowley seemed to lose his footing where he stood and plopped himself down onto the sofa opposite Aziraphale. It was quiet for a moment before he said, “You think… You think _that’d_ be what bothered me about all this? That you were… What, fantasizing? About _me_?! You think _that’d_ fucking _bother_ me?!”

Aziraphale gulped, unsure of what to make of the demon’s reaction. “…Clearly.”

“Well, I don’t! I’m not fucking bothered by that, Aziraphale!” Crowley’s voice rose in volume and pitch as he shouted. “I’m _bothered_ that you were forced to, to– F-fuck, angel, I _assaulted_ you!”

Aziraphale frowned. “You were asleep. You couldn’t have _possibly_ –”

“I was responsible for it! I set the bloody thing up!”

“Oh. Well. _Yes_ , but… Well, I didn’t think of it that way.” Aziraphale looked down at his hands as he fussed with them. “If anything, _I_ assaulted _you_ , by watching you sleep without your consent, a-and thinking the things I did while doing so. I should’ve tried harder to wake you from the start; I never should’ve allowed myself to… to indulge. And I, I really shouldn’t have entered your flat in the first place.”

Crowley groaned and threw his head back. “You’re being fucking ridiculous.” He sat up straight and glared at Aziraphale. “Why do you _want_ me to be upset with you over that?!”

“Why do _you_ want me to be upset with _you_?!”

“Because I fucking deserve it,” Crowley wailed. “I deserve it. I tortured you for… for…”

“Hours, it seemed,” Aziraphale supplied.

“Exactly!”

“My dear, _you_ did not torture me.”

“I did. Inadvertently, maybe. But I did.”

“Through a trap you set when you were even more intoxicated than _I_ was a moment ago.” Aziraphale shook his head. “No, I don’t think I’ll be blaming you for that.”

“W-well. Well, puh– pshhuh– You _should!_ ”

“No. Hush. It’s over with, and I absolutely refuse to blame you, but if you feel you need to be forgiven, then I forgive you.” Aziraphale took in and released a deep breath. “Now, it seems…” he began, slowly, tentatively, in case he was only seeing what he wanted to see. “It… It seems that you had no qualms about being the subject of my, ah, fantasies, then?” He hoped the uncertainty in his voice wasn’t too obvious–he’d _much_ rather come across as nonchalant about the whole thing.

Crowley was equally cautious in his reply. “You’re not… wrong about that, no. But I thought…,” he shifted where he sat, and Aziraphale tried not to notice the way he crossed his legs. “I thought maybe that was just part of the, ah, thing.”

“The ‘thing’?”

“Y’know,” Crowley sniffed, as though he didn’t care if he were wrong or right (it wasn’t convincing in the slightest), “the whole trap thing. Thought maybe I _made_ you think about… You know, I thought maybe I somehow tempted you…?”

Aziraphale opened his mouth in an “ah” shape. “I see.” He closed his mouth and pondered for a moment. “I don’t… I don’t think it was a temptation.” He gave a firm nod. “No, I’m quite certain I went down that path myself.”

“You wouldn’t know if you didn’t,” Crowley said grimly.

“Well, my dear, given my, ah, mental track record, so to speak, I think it’s quite safe to assume that it was my own doing.”

Crowley gave him a quizzical frown.

Aziraphale sighed. “What I mean… What I’m trying to say, Crowley, is that I’ve… I’ve… Well, I’ve thought about such things before.”

If Crowley’s eyes had gone any wider, his eyeballs might have popped right on out of his precious head, Aziraphale thought. The angel gave a light chuckle and shook his head, which prompted a frown from Crowley. “What? What in Satan’s name is funny about this?”

“Oh, all of it.” Aziraphale erupted into a fit of laughter, then, which drew a concerned frown from Crowley. “I’m,” he struggled to say between giggles, “I’m sorry, my dear, it’s just that I,” he wiped his brow with the back of his hand as he caught his breath, “I’d been so terrified of revealing my true feelings for so long, even to _myself_ , a-and then,” more giggles, “the most _ridiculous_ thing happened to finally force it out of me. And now here we are, and you’ve, you’ve got,” Aziraphale was practically wheezing as he said, “your top is still stained with my… my…” Aziraphale shook his head and cleared his throat, realizing that hadn’t been the most appropriate thing to point out. Then again, he thought, quite a lot of inappropriate things had occurred that day. What was one more? He gave a light chuckle. “It’s all really rather quite funny, when you think of it.”

Crowley blinked at him exactly once. “I don’t think it’s funny, angel.”

That sobered Aziraphale quite a bit. He dropped his lighthearted expression and was suddenly very, _very_ nervous. Crowley hadn’t said he felt the same way. He hadn’t said it _bothered_ him, no, but neither had he admitted to ever thinking of _Aziraphale_ in such a way. And perhaps he wasn’t as comfortable with Aziraphale’s demon-centric little fantasy life as Aziraphale had thought. The angel licked his lips and averted his gaze. “I… I apologize. I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have assumed you would be… Th-that you would share my… Oh, I’m sorry, Crowley, _please_ try to forget all of this!”

Silence sat uncomfortably between them for a moment, mocking Aziraphale as he drowned in his insecurities.

“I don’t want to forget it,” said Crowley finally. “I want to fix it.”

“Oh?” Aziraphale chanced a look in Crowley’s direction. The demon was looking at him with the most gentle, careful expression, as though he didn’t want to frighten him off. It made a hopeful warmth spread through the angel’s chest. “How do you propose we fix it, then?”

Crowley took a breath, looking not unlike a young performer about to go on stage for the first time. He opened and closed his fist against his thigh a few times, and took another breath. Then, with an unconvincingly casual shrug, “Do over.”

Aziraphale furrowed his brows. “‘Do over’?”

Crowley nodded. “Do over.”

Aziraphale nodded, too, as though he understood. He didn’t. “And… What exactly does that mean?”

“I…,” Crowley sucked in a breath and let it go. “I would make you… come. Again. And again. And again. Make up for all the times you didn’t get to earlier.”

Aziraphale nearly gasped at the reveal. He looked to Crowley with wide eyes. “You… Really?”

Crowley gulped. “‘F’y’want, yeah.”

“I… Well, only if _you_ want.” Crowley still hadn’t said he desired him in such a way. Aziraphale felt sick to his stomach to think that the demon may merely want to engage in such activities as some sort of… of _penance_.

Crowley all but growled out, “I _want_ , angel. Believe me, I want. I’ve wanted for a long, _long_ time.”

Well, if _that_ didn’t bring his cock right back to life again! Aziraphale shifted in his chair and cleared his throat a few times. “Ah,” he said, as carelessly as he could manage. “Well, then. I suppose we ought to, um…?”

“Have passionate, mind-blowing marathon sex?” Crowley supplied, growing in confidence as a little smirk teased at his lips.

“Mm, yes.” Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered closed as he licked his lips and tried not to moan. “Right. That.”

Neither of them did anything. They just sat there, opposite each other, and blinked awkwardly for a few seconds.

“Right,” said Crowley suddenly, and then he was in Aziraphale’s lap, grasping the angel’s face in his hands, and leaning down to kiss him. 

Aziraphale decided to give up on the whole not-moaning thing. He made a little surprised but undoubtedly pleased noise that ended up muffled by Crowley’s mouth. He moaned again, louder this time, as he reached for Crowley’s face and urged him to kiss him harder. He licked the demon’s lips and let out an unabashed groan when he was allowed inside, flicking his tongue against Crowley’s.

“M’gonna come right here if you keep moaning into my mouth like that,” Crowley murmured.

Aziraphale responded by releasing a guttural, wanton sound against Crowley’s lips, and merely quirked a brow when the demon pulled back to give him a flat look.

“Stop it,” warned Crowley.

“Or else…?”

“Or else I’ll tie you up and give you a good fucking.”

_Oh_ , Aziraphale quite liked the sound of that. Only… “I think it’s only fair,” he said, his voice low, “that _you_ do a bit of, er, being tied up this time around. Don’t you, my dear? Don’t you think you ought to be bound, helpless to touch me as I fuck myself on your cock?”

Whatever resolve Crowley’d had to be dominating seemed to crumble as he groaned and dropped his head to Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Mmmfuck, fuck, yeah. Whatever you want, angel. String me up ’n edge me for hours. I deserve it.”

“You certainly do,” said Aziraphale, turning to press a kiss to the side of Crowley’s head, “since you keep arguing with me about your fault in all of this. Really, I ought to punish you for punishing yourself.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Crowley grumbled against his neck.

“Mm, and now you’ve gone and, um, what’s the word… _sassed_ me. Yes, a bit of punishment is due, indeed.” He gave Crowley’s silk-clad bottom a light smack, prompting the demon to pull back and look at him with wide eyes. “Oh, was that not, um… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have–”

“Do it again.”

Aziraphale raised a brow, then spanked him again, keeping eye contact with the whimpering demon.

“Mmmfuck. Again.”

_Smack_.

“Don’t stop, angel,” Crowley breathed. “Do it ’til I’m red and raw.”

“Well, this really isn’t the best– Let’s, ah,” Aziraphale picked him up, earning a surprised squeak from the demon, and crossed the room to sit on the sofa. “Lie down, then, will you?” Aziraphale motioned for Crowley to lie across his lap. When he did, the angel began spanking him harder and faster than before. “Now,” he said, his voice low and disciplinary, “you will endure these spankings,” _smack_ , “per your _shameless_ request,” _slap_ , “and then,” _smack_ , “you will see to my pleasure.”

Crowley let out an obscene moan and nodded against the sofa.

“You will lick,” _smack_ , “suck,” _smack_ , “and fuck me,” _smack, smack_ , “until I come.” Aziraphale tugged Crowley’s pajama bottoms and boxers down just enough to be able to smack his skin, which elicited a pleased gasp from the demon. “And then,” _slap_ , “you’ll do it again,” _spank_ , “and again,” _smack_ , “and _again_ ,” _slap_. “Until I am satisfied.” An extra hard smack to Crowley’s bottom, and then Aziraphale smirked, quite pleased with the noises he’d been getting from the demon. “Am I understood?”

Crowley nodded.

_SMACK_. “Use your words, dear.”

“Yes!” Crowley’s groan became a whimper on the way out. “Yes, you’re understood. Fucking clear as can be.”

“Well. Get to it, then.” Aziraphale landed one last light smack to Crowley’s arse, then urged the demon to get up. Crowley dropped to his knees in front of the sofa and snapped the angel out of his clothing entirely. Before Aziraphale could pout that he’d really rather have been stripped the human way, Crowley was mouthing hungrily at his cock, and all the angel could seem to say was, “ _Yessss_ , Crowley. Mmmm, _yes_.”

Crowley teased him for a while, licking and kissing from his testes to the leaking tip of his cock and back down again. Aziraphale finally tired of this and grabbed a handful of red hair as he growled, “ _Suck!_ ”

Crowley was quick to obey. He slid his lips over the head of that leaking cock, pressing his tongue firmly against the underside of it, and gave a hard, long suck. After the first moaned “ _fuck_ ” from Aziraphale, Crowley hummed around his cock and began sucking faster, wrapping a hand around the lower part of his length that his mouth just couldn’t accommodate. He sucked and jerked the angel’s cock for several minutes, pulling delicious sounds from him as he did, until Aziraphale was coming down his throat.

“ _Crowley_! Hnnng _fuck_! Mmmmmmmphfffuck.”

Crowley groaned around the spent cock before releasing it with a _pop_. Aziraphale whined at the loss, already miraculously hard again, but Crowley shook his head and snapped himself naked. “You promised to tie me up and ride my cock,” he reminded him.

“I…” Aziraphale struggled to catch his breath. “I did, didn’t I? Oh, that _does_ sound nice.”

Crowley merely nodded, then snapped again, and suddenly the sofa was quite a bit larger and more comfortable than before, complete with a sturdy post at every corner. He crawled onto the new bed, flopping down on his back, and spread himself out like a starfish, ready to be bound to the posts.

Aziraphale smirked. “Oh, I don’t think so, my dear.”

Before Crowley could question him, Aziraphale snapped, and suddenly Crowley was suspended from the ceiling in the middle of the room, wrapped in the same sort of rope Aziraphale had been bound by–only the angel ensured it was much softer. This wasn’t _truly_ a punishment, after all.

“Just a _bit_ of teasing, I think,” said Aziraphale, moving to stand where the demon was hanging, at a more vertical angle than Aziraphale had been earlier. “It’s only fair.” He’d made it so that Crowley’s cock was precisely at mouth-level where he stood, and he licked his lips hungrily at the sight. “After all,” he said, reaching a hand up to caress his lover’s hard and leaking length, “I ought to prepare you for me. Get you nice and, ah, lubricated, yes?”

Crowley moaned above him, and nodded enthusiastically. “Good idea, that. Yeah. Yeah, do th– _Fuck, angel!”_

Aziraphale chuckled around Crowley’s cock, and gave it a few quick, light sucks. “Mmm,” he moaned around it. He started sucking more intensely, then, and tickled the demon’s balls.

Crowley’s moans grew louder and more desperate. He tried to buck his hips into that sweet, hot mouth, but the ropes kept him firmly in place. He whimpered.

Aziraphale smirked and kept at it, sucking and fondling and looking up at Crowley with those deep, wide eyes, feigning an innocence that he _knew_ drove the demon mad. When Crowley began leaking precome into his mouth and he felt him tensing, Aziraphale released his cock and snapped, dematerializing the ropes and bringing Crowley down to land perfectly in his chair.

Crowley whined.

“Oh, were you about to come, dear?” Aziraphale clicked his tongue in mock-sympathy. “Poor thing.”

“A-alright,” said Crowley, still catching his breath. “I deserved that.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Oh, stop it. It’s no fun teasing you if you’re just going to take it seriously.” He pointed to the sofa-turned-bed. “Now, lie down and let me, ah, how did you put it? ‘Ride’ you?”

Crowley snorted. “You managed to take all the seduction out of that phrase.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll put it back when I get your cock inside of me.” Aziraphale pointed more insistently. “Now, to the _bed_ , please.”

Crowley shook his head. “You first. Gotta lick you open, y’know. Gotta make sure that pretty little hole is ready for me.”

Aziraphale’s knees buckled at the words and he scurried to the bed without another word, lying on his back and looking up at Crowley with wide, wonder-filled eyes. Crowley chuckled as he followed, pulling the angel’s legs up over his shoulders and ducking between them to immediately lap at his entrance. “ _Ohhh_ ,” Aziraphale moaned, his legs quivering, though Crowley held them firmly in place. “Oh, _Crowley_. Mmmm.”

Crowley kissed the place he’d been licking, then said, his voice low, “Good, angel?”

“ _So_ good,” Aziraphale breathed. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

Crowley resumed his task, licking and kissing at Aziraphale’s entrance for several minutes before finally pressing his tongue against it and slowly pushing inside.

“ _Ohhhhh_ ,” Aziraphale reached down to grasp at Crowley’s hair. “Ohhhh, fuck. Mmmmfuck, _fuck_ , darling, _yes_.”

Crowley hummed, causing his tongue to vibrate lightly inside the angel. He had to tighten his grip on Aziraphale’s legs, as the angel was suddenly thrashing about on the bed.

“Fuck, fuck,” Aziraphale moaned, desperate. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

Crowley, by some miracle, widened his tongue inside of him, stretching him open. He curled it just a bit, stimulating his prostate, and that did it; Aziraphale came with a shout and a string of profanities.

“Thank you,” Aziraphale said a moment later, as Crowley lapped at his come-covered torso, cleaning him up. “Thank you, thank you, thank y-mmph.” Crowley covered his lips with his own and smiled against his mouth.

“Are you ready, angel?”

Aziraphale nodded wildly, then frowned and shook his head. “I think I need a moment, if I’m to be, ah, riding you.” He sighed. “I’m still catching my breath.”

Crowley chuckled. “Feel good, huh?”

“Oh, you’ve no idea, my dear. That was simply _wonderful_.”

Crowley rested his head on Aziraphale’s chest, and they lay like that for a while, breathing each other in with contented sighs as Aziraphale recuperated himself.

“Alright,” Aziraphale said after about ten minutes. “Time for you to fuck me, I think. Or, for _me_ to fuck myself _on_ you, rather. You won’t be doing much moving.”

Crowley groaned. “Finally.”

“Getting impatient, my dear?”

Crowley gave an affirmative grunt and rolled over until he was on his back. Aziraphale bound him to the bedposts with the snap of his fingers, and crawled onto his lap a breath later. “You still, uh, ready?” Crowley asked.

“More than,” Aziraphale answered, and positioned himself over Crowley’s cock. “Are _you_?”

“Obviously.”

“Mm, so you think.” Aziraphale sank down onto that beautiful, thick cock without further warning, and gave a pleasured sigh. “Oh, that’s– Oh, my dear, you’re– You’re _perfect_. Just what I need.”

Crowley groaned and bit his lip, already tugging at his restraints.

“Ah, ah. Don’t you move, now. That’s for me to do.” Aziraphale gave a lazy, contented hum, and rolled his neck. Then, finally, _finally_ , he started moving. He lifted himself until Crowley was almost out of him completely, and then _slammed_ himself back down onto that leaking cock. “ _Ah_ , fuck!” He did it again, and again, and again, moaning in time with every hard slap of skin against skin. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Crowley, for his part, simply babbled incoherently (though the half-moaned, half-whimpered noises sounded a lot like “fuck” and “shit” and “angel” and _many_ failed attempts at Aziraphale’s name).

“You feel so,” Aziraphale paused to moan, “ _so_ good, Crowley. So lovely inside of me. Mmm, I feel so full. Could come without touching my cock, I think. Already did from just your tongue inside of me. And now… your _cock_ … Oh, my dear, I can feel the orgasm building in me already. Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”

Aziraphale came, spilling his seed on Crowley’s heaving chest as he cried the demon’s name. Crowley followed soon after, filling Aziraphale with his release. The angel moaned at the feeling and leaned down to kiss Crowley’s lips.

“Hands,” Crowley croaked. “Hands, angel. Wanna touch you. Please, _please_. Handsss.”

Aziraphale sighed and released Crowley from his binds with a mere thought. Immediately, warm, slender hands were on his back, urging him closer until their sweat-slick chests met. Aziraphale groaned at the feeling of his own cooling come between their torsos. He leaned just a bit closer until his lips met Crowley’s, and kissed him deeply.

“That…,” Crowley panted between kisses, “was amazing.”

“Mm. You say that as though we’re finished.”

“Uhhh,” was all Crowley could seem to say.

“My dear,” said Aziraphale, “I’ve only come three times. I do believe you owe me at _least_ ten more.”

Crowley blinked, then put on a devilish grin, which Aziraphale echoed with his own pleased smirk.

About three hours and two dozen orgasms later, Aziraphale collapsed beside Crowley on the bed with a contented sigh. “I think I’m about done with that,” he noted.

Crowley merely let out a tired groan in response.

“I take it you’re quite sated as well?”

“Mmmph.” Crowley turned on his side to face Aziraphale. “You’ve no idea.” He looked down at the angel with adoring eyes and a soft smile. “I fucking love you.”

“Oh, I love you, too, dearest,” Aziraphale said, smiling back warmly. “You know,” he said, playing with his hands over his belly as he looked up at Crowley, “I think that, with a few, er, adjustments, I wouldn’t mind being welcomed in such a… such a cleverly _sinful_ way every time I entered your flat.”

Crowley groaned. “Right. On second thought, I think I’m ready to go again.”

Aziraphale chuckled, then gave an overly exasperated sigh. “Oh, of course you are, you wicked thing.” He picked himself up and poked Crowley in the chest until the demon– _his_ demon, he realized with a bright smile–lay back on the bed. “Well,” he said, straddling Crowley’s hips, “best get to it, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, they sure did find a great way to “ride out” the rest of lockdown, didn’t they? >:)  
> Aziraphale is living the DREAM, babeyyy!!!!
> 
>  **Also, side note since they jumped right into BDSM territory:** They really probably shoulda discussed safewords and limits and whatnot beforehand. In the heat of the moment, they failed to do this. Luckily it all went wonderfully for both of them and of course it goes without saying that Aziraphale would have stopped immediately if Crowley had asked him to for any reason (and vice versa), but cOMMUNICATION BEFORE KINKY SEXYTIMES IS IMPORTANT (or all sexytimes for that matter). Friendly reminder to make time for those lovely lil discussions about boundaries and whatnot before ya get too horny to function.  
> Okay my conscience is clear now. Goodnight, y'all.


End file.
